


500 Words You Should Know: #46 Bombastic

by jasbo



Series: Piffle, Tinkerty-Tonk, and a Rusty Plane [6]
Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 09:10:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasbo/pseuds/jasbo





	500 Words You Should Know: #46 Bombastic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Heavyheadedgal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavyheadedgal/gifts).



#  bombastic

[bom- **bas** -tik]

adjective

1. (of speech, writing, etc.) high-sounding; high-flown; inflated; pretentious.

Bertie strummed a few chords on the piano, his face a mask of dreamy vacancy. “What ho, Jeeves,” he said to his valet who had entered with a fresh vase of flowers and was engaged in arranging the blooms with a series of precise tugs.

“Sir?” Jeeves responded without looking up.

“That Miss Fisher…”

“Yes, sir?”

“Ripping girl.”

“I believe the lady in question is several years your senior, sir. But otherwise I believe yours is a sentiment that is shared by many.”

Bertie, unaffected by his servant’s correction, mooned on. “Those eyes…”

“A definite blue, sir.”

“And hair.”

“Raven-black is, I believe, the common description.”

Sighing, Bertie swiveled on the piano stool to regard Jeeves who was arranging glassware in tidy rows on the drinks cart. “Do you know what your problem is, Jeeves?”

“I feel certain you will enlighten me, sir.”

“Your problem is you don’t know women.” Bertie punctuated the last three words of his statement with wags of a long forefinger. “ _I_ know women, Jeeves.”

“Indeed sir?”

“What do you mean, ‘Indeed sir?’ Dash it, Jeeves. I’m a man of the town. I’ve been engaged. I have even,” here he lowered his voice, though there was nobody in the room to overhear him, “been backstage to see the chorus girls at Pingo Fittlewhit’s Showcase Revue.” He did not inform his manservant that the experience of being in such close proximity to that many bare legs had given him shortness of breath such that Barmy Fotheringay-Phipps had had to seat him on the floor with his head between his knees until he recovered.

“I see, sir.”

“That’s right. So let us hear no more questioning inflections in your responses. I know women.”

“As you say, sir.”

“But we are wandering from the point.”

“And that would be, sir?”

“Miss Fisher! Dash it, Jeeves.”

“Miss Fisher is the point?”

“Of course, man. I have just decided that I will invite her to Brinkley Court for Aunt Dahlia’s house party. And then…”

“Then, sir?”

“Then I shall propose to her!” Bertie pointed a triumphant finger upwards.

“Indeed, sir.”

“Dash it, Jeeves, I can’t understand your lack of enthusiasm. Ah, well. I shall ring her now. She is at the Clarendon?”

“Yes, sir. Room 501.” Jeeves appeared to be examining a point on the ceiling with minute intensity.

Bertie smiled affectionately. “Such a memory you have, Jeeves. What a wonder. Well, best to be issuing the invitation. I’m sure the aged relative will enjoy someone with her tally-ho spirit. What a help-meet she will make for a Wooster. Spirited, beautiful, virtuous…” Bertie wandered to the hall to telephone as Jeeves coughed softly.

Jeeves proceeded to straighten the sitting room. A few moments later, Bertie reappeared, looking slightly dazed.

“Jeeves, has Miss Fisher brought any of her staff with her?”

“Staff, sir? I do not believe so. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I rang through to Miss Fisher’s room and some ruffian with an Antipodean accent answered and said she was already occupied. I can’t account for it, other than she must have brought her staff with her from Australia.”

“She did bring a gentleman to your party, sir. I believe he is from Australia.”

Bertie flapped a dismissive hand. “Jeeves. What rot. He wouldn’t be in her _hotel room_.”

Jeeves returned to his consideration of the ceiling. “Of course not, sir.”


End file.
